How Dirty Boys Get Clean
by luvcali76
Summary: EB. It's two days before the wedding and Bella has a plan. A two-parter.
1. Part I

**Part I**

**How Dirty Boys Get Clean**

**A/N: **It's two days before the wedding and Bella has a plan…

**Rated M for sexual content. **This is Bella, though, so I had to tame the raunchier side of my vocabulary. Better to be true to character than a glorified potty mouth, I figure. Hehe. Judge as you will…

* * *

~*~

"This is stupid."

I knew I was nervous the moment I began to tug restlessly at the hem of my new summer dress, my nubbed fingernails offering nothing more for me to chew.

This was a very bad idea.

"What if he just says "No" again?"

Alice swatted my hand away from my hem. "Stop it. It's going to fray, and I'm not buying you another one."

I folded my hands. Nervous frustration had me fidgeting. The idea of Edward coming home had me reeling. But more importantly, the three female members of my family-to-be had me blushing like the virgin that I was.

"I don't think I could take that kind of rejection one more time."

Alice sighed. "My brother is the most stubborn lout on the planet."

"He is." I scowled. "He really, really is, Alice!"

"Tell me about it," Rosalie scoffed. "That boy didn't even give _me_ a second glance." She laughed to herself, shaking her head in total incredulity as she began to study the ends of her hair, as if suddenly after eighty years she would find a split. I just stared at her. "Ridiculous."

"Not now, Rosalie," Esme scolded, taking a seat on Edward's bed. Rosalie gave a huff and then flounced her perfect body out of the room.

All of a sudden, I felt inadequate.

"You look beautiful, Bella," Esme smiled. "And everything's ready. He won't be able to resist."

I cringed. It felt so wrong talking about this with them, and Edward was going to kill me when he found out. Stupid, mind-reading boyfriend. Leave it to me to find the one man on earth who can pillage the minds of my female confidants from a distance.

The room turned silent again.

The four of us, keeping each other company, over two long, boyless days had been just short of a nightmare. It was two nights before my wedding, the night before I would have to part from Edward for another twenty-four hours. We were following all western tradition. Funny, I thought, for a bunch of vampires and me, but Alice had insisted. And I was willing to eat nails if she said so; Edward was immeasurably happy and therefore so was I.

The past two days had been torture, though. Alice was a fettered mess of white lace and never-ending lists. Esme continuously wore a grievous look of sympathy for me, asking time and time again if I needed anything, food, water, oxygen; she was a veritable Florence Nightingale, if Florence Nightingale had been into hunting elk with her bare teeth.

But Rosalie, my favorite hostess of all, spent most of her time primping and looking at fashion magazines, rating the level at which she was more beautiful than every model inside, and _not _talking to me. I was more than grateful.

I sighed.

Basically, I missed Edward, and they knew it. I must have looked pitiful.

"Come on, Bella." Esme rose from the bed. "We can wait for the boys downstairs. I think I still have some of that cocoa."

"No, we can't," Alice sang, a knowing grin on her face. "He'll be here soon. I hope you're prepared, Bella."

I sat motionless She knew something I didn't. I hated that. And I knew I was pouting, but I couldn't help it. I still couldn't believe that I had let them talk me into this. "I'm never prepared for Edward."

"They're almost here!" Rosalie called out and ran to meet us. "Quick, clear your thoughts! Get downstairs!"

Alice clenched her fists. "Quantum physics. Quantum physics…We'll be far away, Bella. Don't worry."

They left the room and went downstairs, I presumed. I had not heard a single step.

Curious, I crept out into the empty hall.

The first voice I heard was Emmett's as he bounded in the front door, loud and boisterous and calling out for Rosalie. Her voice followed quietly. The two of them were talking in low murmurs suddenly, and I quickly realized that they were flirting with each other.

"All right. Take that somewhere else, please," I heard Carlisle say, right before Esme greeted him.

"We're leaving anyway," Rosalie hummed back. Her voice was suddenly girlish. All gone was the cynical tone I had heard all week.

"We are?" Emmett asked.

"We are," she confirmed sweetly. "I have very special plans for you." Her voice was seductive, tantalizingly slow, and I found myself taking mental notes of her tactics.

Could I replicate that?

Then, I heard_ his_ preternaturally silken voice and took off running down the deep second story hall, scurrying into the Cullens' mammoth designer bathroom. Furtively, I shut the door and spun around to witness my folly, the very thing that had my heart pounding against the inner walls of my throat. My back pressed against the door. Fear consumed me. His rejection was going to crush my dejected heart, turn it to humiliated pulp.

An infinitesimal bubble landed on the very tip of my nose and popped. Straight ahead, the bath was set, salted and perfumed to perfection, not too hot, not too cool. Thick, white billows of soap bubbles cascaded over the frame of the deep marble Jacuzzi tub, churned and sustained by fourteen spa jets. Foam trickled to the floor. Around the flat edges of eddied stone, three spiced candles burned, their flames licking at the warm, fragranced air that would hopefully mask my potent blood scent. Hopefully. And reminding me that I was about to be utterly and completely alone with Edward again, as girl and boy, and lying just beyond the floor-to-ceiling paned window that framed the bathtub, the vast forest of his backyard loomed a deep jade, full and lush with miles and miles of Washington Evergreens. Not another soul was within reach.

Rain poured.

My fingers found my mouth as my teeth began to search for something chew-worthy. I wanted this so badly. And it made so much sense. Not weddings or vampires or anything else in this world of mine could distract my body from this anxiety. None of it mattered to me now. I was a virgin on the cusp of womanhood; _nothing_ could be more terrifying.

Then there came the expected knock at the door.

"Bella?"

I closed my eyes.

"I'm home," Edward called.

My heart lurched in my chest.

He was home.

And more appreciably, it was time.

He knocked again. "Bella?"

Try as I might, I could not quiet my thundering heart. I had to continue with the plan, ignore the incessant and deafening pounding in my chest. My ears throbbed with it. I knew his did, too. Regardless, I had to beat down that petrified voice that plagued me; that's what I had to do.

I could do this. And he would let me. I had to believe that.

Taking a deep, cavernous breath, I turned and swung open the bathroom door. And bringing on the sensation of a cool, clean splash of water on the very hottest and driest of summer days, Edward smiled at me, his sweet, slightly flushed, and perfect cheeks smudged with dirt from the hunt—his ears and neck, too, just as his sisters had promised. Absolute relief lifted the weight from my heavy limbs and caused my throat to swell with grateful sobs that I would not unleash on him. The sensation simply filled me to my brim.

"Welcome home," I managed.

My knees instantaneously grew weak. Had I really missed him this much? It was remarkable the denial I allowed myself in his absence, for the burden of it always came back for me, flooding my tear ducts and weakening my shoulders. I was putty for him. I wanted to fill my arms with the hard, thick strength of his chest and back. I wanted to feel him pressed against me. I wanted my fingers in his hair and my mouth sealed inseparably against his. Ah, the feeling, the feeling that I had numbed in the midst of inane wedding tasks came tingling back into the tips of my fingers and the flesh that lined the slit of my mouth. I was whole and alive once again.

Edward said nothing. His fresh honey-soaked eyes scanned my form, and my new summer dress. I was a trembling mass of embarrassment and shame. A sorry candidate for eternal companionship, to be sure. The smile he wore, though, so stimulating to me, never left his lips as he assessed me. My cheeks blazed hot. Who did I think I was in this dress? But his smile only grew.

And with that glorious expression, Edward stepped forward and pressed me to him, immediately burying his face against my neck. I felt his cool lips press kisses up the side of my throat, stopping to lay a thick, noisy kiss just inside the cartilage shell of my ear.

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt you?" he whispered.

"No."

I sounded unsure.

Edward straightened up to smile at me. The inquisitiveness in his expression eased me some. "Do you want me to leave? Alice told me…"

"No."

He gave me a little frown.

"No. Look. Just…" I shook my head. What was I doing? "Give me a second to think about what I want to say. I…" I cocked my head at his next expression, annoyance suddenly giving me courage. "Don't look at me like that."

Now he just looked confused. "Bella. You're more perplexing than usual today. Use your words."

He stepped back, looking as if he was about to leave. Oh, God. I was already foiling my own plan. It hadn't been sixty seconds!

I inhaled slowly. "I would very much like you to stay."

"Alright." His smile returned and he planted a brief, chilly kiss on my lips. "I'll go clean up and wait for you downstairs."

"What? No. Why?"

"So you can finish dressing."

"I am dressed," I growled.

"Bella, what's the matter?"

My mouth tightened, and my forehead, too. He wasn't cooperating, at all. "I don't need to dress," I stated bluntly. My tone was suddenly petulant. I may have even stomped my foot. Suddenly, I was dredging up Rosalie's advice. I couldn't take this nervousness anymore. "I want _you_ to _undress_! Now do it. Strip."

Though I scowled with authority, all I wanted to do was crawl under a giant rock as he frowned at me. That's where I belonged, in the dirt, with the worms and grubs. I was about as capable of seduction.

Edward laughed suddenly. "Why is it every time I leave you with my sisters, I come back to a frazzled, angry fiancé? What did Alice do to you this time?"

I sighed, utterly disgusted with myself. "Will you please just give me this one day to have _whatever_ I want, no matter how odd it seems to you? Just do what I say, without arguing, for once!"

Edward frowned again but then smiled, somehow amused by my behavior. "Okay." His hands reached for my waist. "You can have whatever you want. You know that."

"Good." I was pouting again.

"But Bella, you have to tell me what it is that you want. I'm not a mind reader." His grin grew as he yanked me closer.

"Ha ha."

Swallowing hard, I left him briefly and closed the door, locking him inside with me.

"I want this."

Turning around, I tried to stand tall, needing to feel the semblance of control if I was going to accomplish this. And Edward merely stood, watching my nervous stride with piqued curiosity. He was perfectly still as I walked up to him and, with nervous fingers, began to unfasten each of the buttons of his shirt.

This had to be quick, like ripping off a band-aid, and, thus far, Edward was humoring me.

I paused when I was done. A dark gray t-shirt lay beneath his outer layer. Inquisitively, my middle finger traced the faint tracks of dirt, and then, the various contours of his eternally flawless physique. Would I ever get used to his perfection, his superiority?

Edward glanced to the foamy, churning tub and then returned his thoughtful eyes to me, not uttering a single word as I broke through my nerve and pushed his open shirt over his shoulders and down his arms to the floor. I blew out a breath. I needed to calm my trembling fingers.

"You're too tall."

"What?"

Taking it by the hem, I raised the hem of his t-shirt to the center of his chest and stared pointedly at his eyes, trying to pace myself by ignoring the pale flesh that his muscled stomach presented to me. Did he understand what I meant to do? Beyond the shirt, beyond the rest of his soiled clothing, did he comprehend my fear? Did he sense the approaching evolution of our relationship? Because I did.

Behind his ocher eyes, his mind was at work, contemplating, debating…even calculating. And then, in a swift movement, he pulled his shirt over his head and flung it behind me to the floor.

I started at the speed.

"That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Lethargically, I nodded and then sucked in a rabid breath. His warm, impassioned eyes were already lulling me into a sluggish fog. His scent, so luscious and sweet, which now wafted copiously from his naked chest, was the most potent and intoxicating substance I had ever encountered. How powerfully seductive he was, how raw and carnal, and yet he had no true understanding of it, no appreciation for what he was capable of doing to me.

Did I have the willpower to resist him when the time came?

I would see.

I continued to his belt, swallowing down the thick knot in my throat as I pulled the small end of the leather strap free, jolting his hips toward me.

"Bella," he whispered.

I looked up, thinking I knew what he meant to say, but he simply stared at me with deeply questioning eyes.

"This is not about…sex, Edward."

"Then what is this about?"

I thought it over. "It's about the Civil War."

Edward made a face, one of genuine confusion. And then suddenly he was livid. "What did Alice do to you?"

It was a good thing my hands were still on his belt or he might have escaped, shirtless and angry, into the wilderness to have a word with his prying sister, who was probably miles away by now.

"Nothing, Edward. We watched a movie," I explained. "About the Civil War. Alice picked it out because she wanted to get some glimpse into Jasper's past, she said. She missed him. And Esme wanted to watch because the main character looks a little like Carlisle, and then…I was there. I don't know where Rosalie was."

"What does this have to do with you stripping me naked?"

"I was getting to that."

He waited, quite impatiently.

"See, there was this guy, and he came home from the war to this girl who was engaged to his brother, but his brother was dead and… well, that doesn't matter. He was very sick, and dirty, and she took him in and cleaned his clothes and gave him food and…bathed him and…to me…Well, I thought…" I swallowed. I was done with explaining it in this way. He still looked utterly confused. "Okay…When you see a car you like, that you want to buy, the pleasure isn't in checking under the hood and kicking the tires…You want to drive it. Right?"

He frowned at me.

"Sorry for the car analogy," I said sheepishly. "I know you like those."

"You want to check under my hood before you buy me?"

"No! No. I'm going to buy you anyway, stupid. I love you. But I just want to _drive_ the car on our honeymoon, Edward. And I guess I figured I should do the inspection now."

"Bella, what are you _talking_ about?"

"I want to be comfortable and not a nervous wreck, Edward. I realized when I was watching that movie that I don't know anything about you."

"You know everything about me, Bella."

Despair struck me. He looked heartbroken at my careless words.

"Of course I know you," I tried to explain. "I know your heart, Edward, but I don't know… you. I don't know… the shape of your calves. You're always wearing pants. Or whether your second toe is longer than your big toe. You never walk around barefoot. I don't know if your knees are knobby or how your… or how much hair you have on your legs. I know nothing about… _you_!" I gestured toward his body, having never been so engrossed in terror in all my life.

Nearly a minute, I waited for his response.

"Alright," he said to my surprise, slipping his icy fingers over my ears and into my hair. "Whatever you need, Bella."

"I need this." I yanked on his belt, unlatching the metal clip from its hole. His arms fell to his sides. I was pathetic as my chest heaved, but Edward didn't seem to notice. He waited in silence, watching me with a pensive stare as I continued.

His belt came off easily. The button of his jeans giving me no trouble at all. And as I spread open the flap with languid sluggishness, lowering the zipper to its base, I saw hair and flesh. At that rousing moment, Edward let out a breath. His abdomen flexed in anticipation.

Oh, but I was frozen. I had to soak in the sin of my actions, accept my fleeting virtue, before I could proceed. How naïve I had always been. But how hungry for the truth.

But I was not there yet. The little patch of skin I had exposed above his hairline was not the truth. Deeper, there was more.

I pushed on, slipping my fingers just inside the waistband of his jeans, staying at his hips, and experienced uncharted skin with my eyes closed, hard and cool as it stretched over his hip bones.

Feeling my way around him, reaching, I let my hands slip deep down inside his pants and over his rear. I squeezed, utterly proud of myself as I made Edward's body jerk toward me. Still, he said not a word, making only a few drowsy blinks as I fondled his backside. He was softer here, but still so firm. I hadn't known. And I wanted to know more.

I pushed on.

Bending at my knees, I sank slowly to the floor, taking his pants with me. Where my courage was coming from, I didn't know. Nor did I care. But it was out of fear that I kept my eyes on his. I could see the flesh spring from his jeans in my peripheral.

_God, grant me the courage to look. _

I lowered my gaze and simultaneously raised my trembling hands to stroke up the sides of his legs. His thighs were dusted with hair, and hard as rock. Where they met at his pelvis, I moved my hands together, my thumbs touching just below the stone flesh of his sex. So strong and ready.

That was when I panicked.

Instantly I stood, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." But he kissed me, and that granite organ now pressed into my abdomen. His arms coiled tightly around my waist. My heart plummeted, adrenaline piercing my stomach. I was outside of my normal comfort zone. But this was good. I had never been so mentally aroused, so flushed with the heady mix of discomfort and desire.

His breath was heavy. "Bella, you don't have to do this."

"I want to." I kissed him again, but I had a thought. "Can you handle this?"

"Yes."

So we proceeded. I asked him to get into the tub and, with a faint smile, he did. All the while, I watched him, studying his naked form, the way his muscles twisted with each move, the way they shaped him.

His left ankle had a smudge of dirt on it.

Edward sighed as he settled into the steaming water. "This feels nice." He seemed pleased and that made me happy. "I think the last time I took a bath, I was human. I can't be sure, though."

I smiled. "Do you like the bubbles?"

He looked around himself. "They're okay. What are you planning to do with me?"

I grabbed the bottle of Alice's designer body wash. "I'm going to give you a bath…"

The next hour was the most peaceful of my life. I'd never laughed so hard or let myself venture so far. It made every scrape of my knee, every tear, every broken dream, every day, worth the trouble. Here in this ridiculous bathtub was the meaning behind it all. This incredible feeling. This amusing conversation. The ways Edward pled just before I dumped a cupful of soapy water over his head. His scowling face. Peace. Happiness. They were in my heart. And he was in my soul. How absolutely wondrous and warm, the feeling.

Oh, and Edward was a great subject of study.

Resembling that of a keen explorer, I traveled and discovered the expanse of his divine body. I took mental notes and searched for new spots of interest, treasures, hoping to uncover that secret tickle spot, or that piece of him that was not-so-perfect.

Nothing about his body could repulse me. Every surface, every curve, I found appealing and pleasing to the touch. And it wasn't because he was aesthetically flawless. He wasn't. As he told me in the beginning, he was still a man. His bulky knees, his long second toes, I loved these imperfect parts, because they were his.

I kissed the top of his feet as I washed them clean. I studied and counted the slick bottoms of his toes as I held them up like a deck of cards.

Through it all, Edward shook his head.

I learned the thin pattern of hair that started at his ankles, thickened slightly below his knees, and seemed to dissipate around his inner thighs. To my sheer amazement, the skin was relatively smooth just before his thigh disappeared into the water, and milky white.

I hunted the deeply-faded freckles on the backs of his shoulders. I kissed each one.

And when Edward wasn't looking, when he thought I was lost in my ministrations, I watched him play. He would pool the water into his mouth and let it cascade from his lips and onto his chest. He would watch with fascination as steam rose from his own skin, and feel for the warm flush in his own cheeks, completely unaware that he had me utterly captivated. From where I sat, I could not imagine life without him. The very idea troubled me. It would not be life, because this magnificent being, sitting quietly in his bathtub, spilling water from his flawless mouth, was the very definition of it.

When he caught me looking, I continued with his bath, and when most of his exposed skin was sparkling clean, I moved on to his dirt-splotched face and neck.

Gently, I washed him, worshipping every one of his features, attending to every detail, while he lay with his eyes closed. He seemed to like it. Something I was doing felt good. I knew, because he would moan softly and smile. Occasionally, he sang to himself, and, sometimes, he watched me, frowning, asking me questions about my week, as I lied.

"Was Rosalie rude to you?"

"No."

"You're lying…"

When his hair was clean, he smiled at me, which, in turn, made me smile. How could I not? His gaze was filled with sleepy satisfaction and pure contentment. And that, more than anything, knowing he was happy and that his mind was at peace with the way I loved him, filled my own heart with tranquility.

I cupped his cheeks. "I love you."

"Kiss me. My lips are warm."

I did. I kissed him. He was far too beautiful to refuse, and his suddenly-pliant lips were deceptively hot against mine, and so deliciously wet. My mood changed instantly.

In vain, I tried to find the boundaries of our usual chastity, to tame our kisses. But his slick flesh went on and on, unraveling me. Kisses became clumsy. Eager. My passion flared. And, in the next instant, my body was plunging beneath the water.

Violently, the waterline rose, bringing the sound of liquid sloshing and splashing to the floor below, and then the muffled warble of bubbles rising. Above us, waves tossed. Water flooded my open mouth. Somehow, I was on my back at the bottom of the tub, soaked to my core in the arms of this slippery, hard-bodied man. My dress was ruined. My heart was racing. My lungs screamed for oxygen. But I kissed harder. And then, like a hot prod, that steel organ pressed into me once again.

I gasped as we came up for air.

I called out Edward's name. Oh, what was happening? And did I want it to stop?

The answer was no. A thousand times, no! This was exactly what I wanted.

Possessively, my fingers clutched his saturated hair. My arms cuffed his head. Tightly, I held him to me, sucking wildly at his sweet lips and contemplating wrapping my legs around his smooth, gleaming body. But the fabric of my dress was binding me. I wanted it off, I wanted Edward's hands on my bare skin. I wanted flesh on flesh. But his hands did not touch me anywhere they had not touched before, and his mouth stayed safely on mine.

In a rapid, disconcerting move, he backed away. Torment plagued his expression. "Bella, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that!"

"No! Kiss me," I pulled his dripping mouth back to mine. Oh, it was so delicious. "I want you to touch me, Edward." I kissed him over and over. "Touch me."

"Bella…"

"No, I need this. I like this."

He pulled away again, squaring my shoulders. "Bella!"

"Stop it, Edward!" I scowled and yanked him to me again, locking his mouth in a rough, frustrated kiss. The water rose over my head and, again, we were submerged. I held his lips to mine with voracious determination. My thighs clutched his hips firmly. Below the surface, we tumbled and rolled, until Edward was beneath me, pushing me up into the cold air.

"Damn it, Bella!" he scolded me at the surface. "You're going to drown yourself!"

"It wouldn't be the first time!" I swept my soaked hair from my face.

Crestfallen, Edward sat back against the tub. My heart plummeted. Oh, God. I had hurt his feelings, and I was instantly sorry. I was awful to bring that up. But I was angry too.

On the opposite side of the tub, I sat back to catch my breath. "I knew this would happen."

"It's only two days, Bella."

"It's not about that." I shook my head. How could he not see? "There's a wall between us, Edward. Don't you feel it? There's a barrier that separates us, and if we can't break it _now,_ then how are we going to on our honeymoon? I want our first time to be magical, not marred with awkward pauses and arguments about limitations."

"I wanted to try," he reminded me in a near growl. "And you insisted we wait."

"Wait for _sex_," I now reminded him. This taboo word that we always avoided, I was going to wear it out today. He was going to listen! I was beyond frustrated. "This isn't sex, Edward."

Blowing out a breath, he let his head fall back.

Instantly, my anger fell away. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Did he realize how alluring he was? Even his spread throat called to me. His Adam's apple glistened in the light and gave a tantalizing bob as he swallowed, reminding me that he was naked beneath the Mr. Bubble. This was torture.

"Edward."

"You have me so confused right now, Bella," he said, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into the tub. "I have no idea what it is that you want." Water lapped at his shoulders.

My anger returned.

My response to this little speech was to purse my lips and yank off my stupid, sopping wet dress, slapping it to the water.

His eyes remained closed.

Defiantly, I rose, exposing my bare chest to the air. Watch him squirm now! I was at my wit's end. But as daring as I felt, it took me a moment to adjust. My breasts had never been seen by another before, let alone a man, and never, ever touched in an erotic way. Though now, they ached for his fingers, and his wet, supple mouth.

"I want you to look at me," I told him, my heart nearly punching through my chest.

He did. His head fell forward, and he looked me square in my eyes. He didn't flinch.

"No. _Look_ at me, Edward," I demanded. He knew damn well what I meant. For a moment, I thought he might be angry. Then again, I didn't care.

Edward blinked, his expression unyielding, and lowered his eyes.

My own eyelids fell shut in my panic. An age old shame tore though me, every cell in my body aware of my nakedness. I could feel the heavy heat of his stare on me. There was a sharp ache in my breasts suddenly. My face blazed fire. But had there been a giant tornado outside, heading straight for us, I still could not have peeked.

The bathwater trickled then, and I felt the bulk of his bare chest press into mine. His arms slipped around me; his lips fell on my ear. "You're _excruciatingly_ beautiful, Bella" he whispered, planting hungry little kisses down the edge of my neck. And with a comforted sigh, I returned his smooth embrace, sinking with him into the steaming water.

How tightly we held each other. How quietly his name escaped with my next breath.

Never in my life had I experienced such intimacy, such a deep and absolute union with another being. This pleasure felt far from dirty. The very opposite of wrong. On the contrary, I felt whole and clean with my naked flesh pressed to his, my breasts mashed against the hard muscles of his chest. There was only warm serenity, and him.

He squeezed me to him so deliciously hard then, his kisses soft on my neck. People were right. There was something to this. It was what my body had been crying out for all along. Contact, bare and unrestrained. And I needed more. I needed to break down our wall, meaning one of us would have to let go of it.

But Edward was too much a gentleman, and so I would have to go first. My virtuous Romeo would need a violent shove, if he was going to become my promiscuous Romeo.

Locked in his steel arms, I arched my back and let myself wilt, taking his head with me. Growing hungry, his kisses moved down my neck toward the virgin chest I was baring for him.

I gripped him tight. Oh, please, let go. Kiss me.

Only the rain outside. Steam rising. I combed my fingers through his hair, pushing it back so that I could bear witness and watch as his strong jaw and luscious lips worked their way down my body. The anticipation as he sunk toward the water had my chest heaving. The ache was nearly unbearable. How far would he go before he broke my heart again?

Kiss me!

He laid a kiss just below my collarbone.

_Sensation._

My heart staggered. His eyes clenched shut. I stilled, my jaw dropping in anticipation and near shock, when he kissed the fullness of my breast and then hesitated over its stiff peak. This tantalizingly slow and torturous moment had my heart spreading beneath him. I wanted his mouth on me. Needed the brutal tug of it. I wanted to force him down, but then his lips wrapped around my nipple, taking it hard, and it was me who let go, falling limp as he suckled me.

I clutched Edward to me, whispering to God. The wall that separated us was collapsing, and it felt so good. And while his eager mouth devoured me, his one hand stroking my side, the other kneading my other breast, pinching and pulling the nipple exactly how I never knew I wanted it, gentle but rough, careful but the slightest bit cruel, I had to remind myself not to cry out. I could spook him. And he was doing so well.

But then I gasped.

Swiftly, my legs were spread around his hips. He pushed me against the edge of the tub. And there again, pressed hard between my thighs, was that rigid organ. Oh, I would have to deal with it eventually. In all this neophyte chaos, still, it would not allow me to forget that.

I urged his mouth on mine, suddenly needing his tongue, needing it to fill me. I opened my mouth against his.

Edward backed away.

"Not that." He could barely speak. "After, when I can't cut you. I promise."

"Okay."

He hesitated.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, sinking down so that he was practically on top of me, my knees skimming the cool surface. "Trust me to stop us. Please. Let me be the one." Still, he waited. "Can you handle this?"

"Yes."

There was something else in his expression. "There's nothing to stop you anymore, is there?"

"No."

He was worried.

"And my blood?" I asked him. We were so vulnerable now.

"Makes me want you more."

"Want me?"

"Want _you_," he whispered in my ear.

I gripped his arms, solid as rock, as he lapped at and sucked the moisture from my throat. His tongue felt pleasingly cold against the many layers of heat that surrounded us. The duel sensation had me writhing.

In response, Edward moved deliberately against me. That organ touched me again, grazing roughly the thin strip of underwear between my legs.

I cried out softly, something sounding like a whimper, and Edward immediately stopped.

"No. No. That's good," I assured him, my voice quivering, heart pounding. I stroked his cheeks. "That's a good noise."

Against the edge of the tub, looking into his fevered eyes, it hit me: he was naked. I was near naked. And his erection—whatever engorged it, blood, venom, reinforced steel—it was causing heat to pool between my legs. A slow throb began to demand my attention, making me swell too. This was becoming real. And his eyes begged mine for a response.

Stop. Or continue on.

His mouth gravitated toward mine, but our parted lips simply touched. The stifling heat and our mingled breath—cold warmed with hot—was enough as his hands cupped my breasts and squeezed.

Unable to help it, I whimpered again. And without taking my eyes off his, I grabbed one of his hands and pulled it into the water between us, intentionally dragging the rough tips of his fingers down my chest and belly, to the thin elastic band of the white cotton that covered me. Pleasure surged through me. His fingers on me. Near that heat. And without prompting, he slipped his hand beneath the cotton. I inhaled fast. My legs parted just enough. God, the feeling, as his palm slid over and cupped me.

His eyes closed and his mouth opened on mine.

"You're so soft, Bella," he groaned against me. "So perfect."

Another whimper escaped.

Gently, he massaged me, his fingers pressing deeply to rub my swollen flesh, his mouth growing insistent on mine, as he worked to spread both sets of my lips. A great surge of nervous adrenaline flooded my stomach. The pristine sex between my legs was suddenly aching to be filled. I understood the need now better than ever, and my thoughts returned to that neglected, swollen organ of his.

I grabbed it, too roughly, I think, and he moaned sharply into my mouth. It was smooth and shockingly hard, like polished rock in my hand. And as for its size, I couldn't imagine it fitting inside me, but it certainly wanted me, exciting me when it jumped in my hand.

We whispered to each other.

"I don't know what to do."

"Stroke it."

He wrapped his fingers over mine, further sheathing the thick shaft. "Like this," he whispered against my lips, and, together, our mouths hovering just above a kiss, we stroked the full length of him. "All the way down," he told me as I tenderly but firmly slid my fist from the supple head down to the rigid base, where I felt the weight of his scrotum and the rough hair.

I was delighted when he groaned again and shut his eyes, kissing me as he returned his hand to my own aching sex.

Flushing again, I let out a moan.

"Oh, God, Bella," he growled, as my hand tugged at him. Impassioned, he began to pump into my fist, inciting me with the way his body moved against mine. I gripped him harder, accommodating each of his thrusts, learning what pleased him.

Beneath the cotton, his hand became rougher, working me harder and faster. I threw my head back, and in an aggressive move that startled me, his mouth attacked my neck, a low growl emanating from his chest as he continued to drive toward me. Fear struck me briefly. Those sharp teeth. The sounds that came out of him. The thrusting. And then my fear slid away, becoming unfathomable pleasure. I cried out. I barely noticed the water sloshing back and forth. I was going to die if he didn't penetrate me soon.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, bearing his thrusts, his magnificently hard body curling toward me, organ pistoning my willing fist, fingers never entering me, never compromising my virginity, and deep down, I was grateful. So safe with him. So completely in love.

I kissed his excited mouth. I worried for him, though. He seemed to be losing control.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes."

"This is possible then?"

"Yes," he hissed passionately into my mouth, letting his tongue prod the tip of mine. I moaned so loudly at the erotic feel of it. He continued to thrust. It was all I could bear.

"Enough," I whispered, my breath gone. My hand pressed into his chest. "Enough."

Immediately, Edward paused, giving one little baby thrust, his breath somehow heavy and labored. With a loving sweep of his open palm, he pulled his hand from me just as I released him, still engorged, from my grip.

The water settled down.

Softly, slowly, he kissed my lips.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be." He kissed my face, my cheeks, my chin, and then, appearing spent, laid his head down on my chest. "I was about to stop anyway… I was close," he said shamefully.

"Close to what?"

He hesitated. "You'll discover the answer to that soon enough."

My eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, God." Overjoyed, I smiled, kissing his hair, hugging his head. He was close. Now I understood.

Sort of.

Still holding him, I let my head fall against the edge of the tub. I had been close too. To what, I wasn't sure yet. But my body was building toward something violent and wonderful. And though I still ached for more of his touch, the throbbing between my legs nagging ruthlessly at me, I was satisfied.

And for what it was worth, Edward was unquestionably clean.

Afterwards, we dried each other off with delightfully thick bath towels that smelled like Tide. A gentle quietness fell over us, as we studied and admired each other's body, and then wrapped each other up in the soft linen.

Like that, warm and dry, we kissed. I never wanted to stop.

In his room, we dressed, and then went downstairs hand in hand to cuddle up on the couch and watch TV. The bashful smiles never left our lips; there was only quiet laughter and affectionate kisses to communicate the peaceful delight that surrounded us, the fresh sense of intimacy that we felt.

On the couch, Edward pulled a blanket over me. "Are you warm?"

"Very," I beamed dreamily, snuggling against him.

"You set me up," he said a moment later, his eyes on the television.

"Yes."

"Why?" I didn't answer. But then he smiled and kissed my hair. "Never mind. I know why."

We ignored his family when they walked in a couple of hours later. Alice grinned at us like a Cheshire cat before she dragged Jasper to another part of the house, and Emmett simply questioned us about our wet hair, but suspected nothing when we lied and said we had been out in the rain.

For the most part, and at the insistence of Esme, they left us alone with each other, and I was glad for it, for our wall was down and here we were, exposed, and a little embarrassed, but perfectly contented. If Edward could blush, he would have been glowing crimson with me right now. But his sweet, pale cheeks only lifted into a smile, when he thought I wasn't looking.

How madly I loved him. And how good he smelled.

I rested my head against his arm. Two more days, I thought to myself. "We're ready."

Edward kissed my forehead and nodded. "We're ready."

* * *

**A/N2:** Thanks for reading! Please review.

Edit - Because of all the requests I've gotten, I decided to do the wedding night, too. And now Part II is finally up. Sorry for the wait.


	2. Part II

**PART II  
**

**How Clean Girls Get Dirty**

**A/N**: I wasn't originally going to attempt this because I am very aware of how easy it is to screw up. But I decided to give it my best shot, and then the story sort of wrote itself into an unforeseen direction. Again, keep in mind that this is Bella. It was either gratuitous OOC raunch or proper characterization. I chose the latter…

So, by reader demand, I give you: The Wedding Night...

* * *

~*~

Finally.

My happy place.

It was unquestionably real and far more glorious than the ostentatious fantasies that I had conjured up for myself in the past few weeks. Let a hurricane come, I thought. Let the outside world collapse until it was nothing but us and ocean. I didn't care. I was alone with Edward.

What an exquisite feeling.

"I feel like I've been let into Heaven," I heard Edward murmur thoughtfully to himself.

Pulling my gaze from the midnight sky, I turned my head and took in a greedy eyeful of him.

Edward, I rehearsed mentally, my husband.

The word meandered so fluidly through my mind now that the stigma of weddings and everything wedding-related had been extinguished from my nightmare cache. My husband. My Edward. Of all things driving a boat through the shimmering black waters of night. A smile rolled over me as I admired his face, the soft wind battering mine. He was only partially correct.

We were both in Heaven.

"It is very beautiful," I agreed, my eyes still locked on his flawless face.

Edward laughed. "I've seen this sky a hundred times, Bella." He twisted his neck to face me. "Being your husband. Knowing you're mine. That's Heaven to me."

"I was always yours."

"I know that." He shrugged and smiled. "But now the rest of the world knows it."

I had to roll my eyes and smile. _Jake knew it_ was what I suspected he meant.

As Edward returned to his driving, I looked away.

Somewhat akin to the soft trickles of a woodland brook, the ocean waves lapped gently against the side of the boat. Warm salt water splattered lightly over my forearm, prompting me to pull the long sleeves of my sweatshirt down. The brand new motor purred around us. Edward wasn't going very fast, I noticed, probably afraid that if he did, his danger prone wife would somehow wind up at the bottom of the Pacific. I was surprised I wasn't strapped to my seat like a monkey on a moon mission. Edward tended to be a little overprotective at times. But never this secretive.

"Are you ready to tell me where we're going yet?"

"Don't be so impatient, Bella. I've been waiting ninety years for this; you can wait another ten minutes."

I sighed, positive that he didn't appreciate my need for urgency. He still didn't seem to grasp that a ninety year wait for _me_ was painless compared to a ten minute wait for _him_. Each torturous second, every glance at his hard-muscled arms, the firm yet luscious mouth, the thick lap, knowing now what lie beneath for me, was agony.

I shuddered and looked away again.

"It's not like I don't sort-of-know where we are," I reasoned, pouting. "The word 'Fiji' in giant neon letters was a little hard to miss at the airport."

Idly, as Edward ignored me, I wished for the stars to come out so that I could spot some hint of land. Thanks to Hollywood and every book ever written, I had lived under the impression that from the ocean, especially in the crystal clear waters of the South Pacific, which is where we were, the stars were bright and looked close enough to touch. But the sky was black as soot tonight. Only a somber, goldenrod moon peeked through the shredded cloud cover. It was striking but scaring me a little.

I scooted closer to Edward, pushing my drawn fingers through the wrist cuffs of my sweatshirt to take his arm.

I knew he wasn't even going to humor me. His hand remained on the small boat's steering wheel, his eyes focused on something only he could see. I knew he was simply eager to surprise me. And I was eager to finish what we had started two days before, and therefore too knotted up inside to push the issue of whereabouts any further. For two days, my mind had been consumed with reflections of how his naked body felt pressed up against mine. How it felt to be tangled with him in the wet heat of our bathwater, to rub my chest and legs against his smooth skin. Even now I could feel the way his fingers had massaged me. How his cool mouth suckled me. How I swelled and heated and blushed all over for him.

I shuddered again and shimmied closer, reticently slipping my fingers beneath the hem of his sweatshirt in a brazen attempt to molest him. My fingertips found the cool, firm skin of his abdomen and, circling his bellybutton more than once, traced around the subtle pikes of muscle. More than likely, he would tease me now and tell me that I need to relax, that I was going to get carried away. I was already beginning to pout as I anticipated this. His lack of sympathy for my hormonal predicament had me in a silent miff. I was going out of my mind with pent-up desire, and he had done it to me. I was suddenly a shameless wanton, a stray cat in heat, and he was as composed as ever.

It was completely unfair.

The previous night, I had dreamed in Technicolor about the amazing fervor with which he had pistoned himself into my hand. My fist then became the willing little gape between my legs, so achingly empty and then so utterly stuffed full of him. I woke up quivering all over.

I knew it was the result of two days worth of unnecessary punishment, and our absurdly beautiful, over-the-top wedding in which Edward looked like an earthbound God, handsome as ever in his tuxedo, glowing with love for me, while I stood a stuttering wreck. But that was over now, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I didn't care where we were going, as long as our destination had a bed, and even that didn't fully matter. An entire year of being tormented with his bewitching touch, with being ruthlessly teased, was long enough! I decided to ask what I really needed to know, before I exploded all over the glass-bottom floor of Alice's outlandish wedding gift.

"How much longer?" My breath hitched on the last word, and I was instantly embarrassed.

"Maybe thirty minutes." Edward looked down at me with a knowing glance. "I promise, Bella, we'll get there."

He must have thought I was depraved. I know I thought I was. He had created a monster, a squirming, touch-starved monster.

Fifteen minutes later, Edward squeezed my knee and I jumped. "Look." He pointed straight ahead.

I looked up to see the faint, dark blue outline of a mountain ridge, making the island that loomed ahead appear closer than it probably was.

"What island is that?" I asked.

Edward grinned proudly at me. "That's your island, my love."

"_My_ island?" My jaw clenched. He didn't. He couldn't! "Edward," I growled. "Did you _buy_ me that island?!" If he weren't already long dead, I would have killed him myself.

"Don't be ridiculous," he answered calmly. "I rented it so that we could…be alone." His left eyebrow arched considerably at the last two words, crooned so suggestively.

Be alone. I stopped breathing. 'Be alone' meant sex!

"Oh." He had successfully shut me up. I could do nothing but admire my island. Its presence took on a whole new meaning. "I love it," I announced. I don't know how long I sat with my mouth hanging open, finally with stars in my eyes, but my heart was racing. Torrid images were passing through my newly debauched mind. Ten minutes was going to feel like an eternity.

Edward chuckled. "I knew that would get your attention."

I had to smile up at him. It was impossible not to. My entire torso stung as lust and excitement rioted in my chest. I was sick with love for him, the measure of my passion for him singeing my heart. It was remarkable, the sensation. My chest was tight. My throat was sore. Nerves twisted themselves into knots in my stomach. The blistering adoration I was feeling was oozing from my very presentation, body leaned forward, smile dreamy and delirious. I clutched the material at my thighs. I must have seemed ridiculous to him. But he gave me a smile anyway, subtle and sexy and interested.

Good grief, he was beautiful when he did that.

"Hurry, please," I requested, my chest heaving. Each breath felt like I was inhaling molasses. He was going to destroy me before he could kill me, and there was no way I was dying a virgin. "I just want to… _be alone_ with you. I can't wait anymore."

Edward frowned, his sharp teeth raking his bottom lip as he took careful measure of my inflamed body language. I was an overheated, wound-up mess, shooting him an anguished look that demanded he notice. I was suffering.

Edward punched the gas.

I heard him draw in an arduous breath. His fist clenched the steering wheel as he drove us closer to my island.

My head fell against his shoulder in celebration. Oh, sweet Heaven, he was turned on. He was as hot and bothered as I was, and I wanted to thank every star that had abandoned us tonight. He had been so cool, so collected, so utterly unaffected, it seemed, by our afternoon in the tub that I feared that the need and want between us was pathetically one-sided.

When we reached the dock, Edward pulled me close. "Bella." He smoothed his lips over mine, letting his sweet breath seep into my mouth, sating my deprived tongue with his taste. "I wish you would exercise some patience. I know you're ready. I won't deny you."

"How far is the hotel?"

He sighed. "There is no hotel," he said, climbing out of the boat. He tethered it to a large wooden pole and then held his hand out to me. "Come on. Watch your step."'

I stepped onto the small dock. I could scarcely see anything ahead of us. "Are we camping or something?"

"No," he said curtly and went back for our luggage, which consisted of two large suitcases and a small cooler. "We aren't."

I cringed at his response. I had forgotten that he had developed a sudden aversion to camping. Tents, in particular. I knew why, and now I was kicking myself for being such an idiot, for so cruelly reminding him. I wanted everything to be perfect for him. I wanted him happy and content, satiated to his little vampire core with how very much I wanted and loved him.

Edward, his arms full, took my hand then and walked me off the dock, guiding me down the beach.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

He tipped his head. "It's just a short walk down the beach."

I glanced around. It was warm here, the sand that percolated into my sneakers, bright white, the breeze coming off the ocean, gentle and only faintly laced with the smell of salt water, contrasting the beaches back home. It was magnificent. Then a thought struck me.

"Have you been here before?"

He hesitated, then answered with a stiff, "Yes."

I flinched. I hadn't expected that. "With who?"

"With my family and a few of our friends."

"Friends?" My tone was instantly snappish. Accusatory. Suspicion had me in its grip. He didn't have many friends, unless you included the ranks of the Volturi. But they didn't exactly seem like the holidaying type.

Edward gave me a strange smile. "Yes. We found out about this place when we were living in Denali. We all stayed here a few times, to get away. What's the matter?"

"You all…You mean everyone from Denali?!" My head grew dizzy. It felt fire was spewing from my ears.

"Yes. Bella, are you all right?" Scowling suddenly, Edward dropped our luggage and grabbed my hand, stopping me. "Bella."

"You didn't tell me about that."

"I didn't think it was imperative that I did." He was irritated and I wondered why. "And anyway, I'd always planned on bringing you here as a surprise, but you would never let me until now." He waited for my response, but I was distracted, busy formulating a lurid visual with this newfound information. "Bella," Edward tried again, jerking my arm. "Tell me what you're thinking, this is making me crazy." A moment later, he sighed. "Is this about Tanya again?"

I scoffed, finally looking at him. "Well, what about Miss Perfect? I suppose she only pranced around the beach in her tiny bikini, looking perfect and…blond! Wanting you."

Edward raised a smile that infuriated me. Stupid, smug vampire. He was enjoying my jealousy. Or maybe he was just remembering Tanya in her tiny bikini. I folded my arms.

"You're being ridiculous," he said.

"Am I?!"

His smile disappeared. "Yes, Bella, you are. This is our honeymoon. And I already told you that I had no interest in her."

"But she had an interest in you." And no wonder. They'd spent time together on a private island. The possibilities were making me sick to my stomach. Her here with him, wanting him, flirting with him.

"A small one," he said and took my waist in an effort to pull me closer. "Not enough to mention."

I jerked away. "Yes, I know, seeing as you didn't mention it."

"Bella."

I knew I had no right to be jealous. My rational brain knew that. But it didn't ease the feeling in my chest in the slightest. Nothing could. Not even the sting of my own hypocrisy. The idea of someone so perfect, so perfect for him, wanting him the way I did, pursuing him the way I did, made my blood boil with possessiveness and fear, fueling my human insecurities. The female vampire in question was that ocean next to me, powerful and mysterious and beautiful, and I was a bothersome speck of sand in Edward's shoe by comparison.

And now Edward was looking at me in a way that shamed me. He was angry.

"The house is just up here," he said sourly, then grabbed our luggage. He turned to walk up the beach, but peeked back with a brusque scowl to be sure I was following.

Feeling awful, I started behind him up the beach. It was only a matter of seconds before I saw it, a large wooden structure nestled just inside the tree line. It was still difficult to tell, but the layout appeared exposed, primitive, like it was something made from natives—very well-paid natives, I surmised, for this was evidently Cullen-approved. It was no shack.

"How close are the neighbors?" I asked, hoping he was ready to speak to me again.

"There aren't any," he said. "It's a private island. We chose this place for the obvious reason."

Meaning, I presumed, that it was the ultimate vacation spot for the vampire with a pesky sun problem: no witnesses.

"Wait. When you say private…"

"I mean we're the only ones on this entire island, Bella." He glanced back at me. "When I promised you that we would be alone, I meant it."

I let his words soak in. "So there's no one at all?" It came out more ominously than I had intended.

Edward laughed. "Well, there is a sizeable population of very mean, oversized boars in that jungle, and other smaller critters, but they won't bother you. I promise. They live further inland."

"Is that what you're going to hunt?"

"If I have to."

We reached what reminded me of the Swiss Family Robinson tree house, though it was built into the ground and sand, and was much more lavishly constructed with a balcony protruding from a second floor and a large deck to the side. The trees behind it only seemed to function as protection from the elements. The entire structure was very impressive, but I couldn't help myself from shying away from the shadowy entrance that Edward was suddenly trying to escort me through.

I shook my head. "There could be anything in there. You first."

A faint grin on his face, Edward approached me. "But there's not anything, Bella. Will you please trust me," he purred in my ear. "If you're worried about the Boogey Man, look no further. You married him. I'm the scariest thing on this island."

"Well, that's just pathetic."

He let out a chuckle. "Will you come in now? I'm not leaving you out here alone."

"I thought you said there was nothing to worry about."

He sighed. I could see that he was becoming frustrated with me. "Why must you be so difficult?" Dropping the suitcases, he swept me up in his arms and briskly carried me over the sandy threshold before I could protest—as if I would. Without setting me down, he located a silver box along the wall and opened it, flicking a switch that lighted the entire room up through a lavish series of stringed bulbs. My lips parted in surprise. I had never witnessed anything more welcoming or beautiful.

"This is the main switch. Each room has its own." Edward set me down. "I'm going to stock the kitchen with your food," he said, going back for our luggage. "Your things will be in our room. Go ahead and take a look around."

Then, with unsettling speed, Edward took off. He was safe here to be himself and with my well-being now secured, he was obviously going to do just that.

Alone now, I shut the front door, locking it, and looked around. I was clearly in some sort of living area, and it was only now that I realized the entire house was actually enclosed with storm windows. Plastic covered all of the cushioned furniture. The rest of the furnishings were carved of wood and exposed to the elements. It was all very earthy. A lot of wicker and pale, natural colors. But it was the lightening that wrapped around me like a warm blanket. It appeared to have the flicker of candlelight.

All of a sudden, I heard clanking and the shuffling around of something coming from the room straight ahead of me, in what I assumed was the kitchen once I heard the clunk of pipes and then the hiss the running water. As curious as I was to find out what Edward was up to, I decided to see what was at the top of the stairs.

The upper hall was illuminated solely by the open door to a rather large bedroom. The room itself was very plain and more enclosed than the living room, containing only two small windows with an ocean view.

My luggage was on the bed topped with a single red rose.

I picked up the flower and sniffed it, smiling. It was obvious that he was trying to make everything picture perfect for me, for us, and it was also clear that I was doing little to help. I was behaving terribly. And my guilt over our Tanya argument returned. I had to remind myself where I was: in my happy place, with Edward, on an island all to ourselves. But it was our reason for being here that had my stomach churning with nervous anxiety suddenly.

I needed to get ready.

In the attached bathroom, an exceptionally small room, I showered, washing away the grime of traveling, and then prepared my body for Edward, surprised the entire time that he stayed away.

Taking my time, I brushed though my damp hair and applied some light make-up, mostly to accentuate my eyes, and then added the final touch, a white satin and lace nightie gifted to me by Rosalie.

"Not too bad," I murmured, admiring my reflection.

The thigh-length gown was beautiful, and very sensible, definitely the most delicate thing I owned other than my wedding dress, and as I looked in the mirror, I realized that it was a stranger who stared back at me. But I liked this stranger. She looked brave and on the precipice of a realized dream. She looked excited.

I smiled and smoothed my hands down my hair. I was definitely ready.

That feeling of excitement, however, the one I was so sure of, dissipated once I opened the bathroom door. Edward looked up. He had been sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting.

My heart did a cannonball into my stomach.

His eyes softened, grimacing. His lips parted, as if he was about to speak, but he said nothing.

"Do you like it?" I asked him, gulping. "We don't have to… do anything right now; I just wanted to be ready." My voice abandoned me. Why wasn't he speaking? My heart plummeted further.

"You know," he murmured, his tone very introspect, very thoughtful and serious. "I've been on this earth for one hundred and seven years. I've traveled every continent, and I've seen every living creature a man can see, and I've never seen anything more beautiful than you."

Sighing, Edward stood up and finally lifted his eyes to mine, his lips curling into my favorite smile. His hands settled on my waist, admiring the gown.

"You're determined to make this honeymoon an entirely indoors trip," he accused lightly, the grin never leaving him.

"That's the idea."

His arms closed around me. "Well, as you wish, Mrs. Cullen." And then he kissed me, and not in the way that I was used to, but with the new heat that had begun to develop between us since our tryst in the Cullen bathtub. It was corporal freedom, heating us from the inside out, and I knew that we would never make it back downstairs. The tour ended here.

With a playful growl, Edward picked me up and carried me to the bed, and when he laid me down, I shrieked.

"It's warm," I said with curious excitement. I patted the comforter, smoothing my hand over it. "Why is it so warm?"

Edward smiled and climbed over me. "It's an electric blanket," he explained. "To keep you warm, when…" He smiled and kissed me again.

I laughed. "Well, you're very clever, aren't you? And-" I cocked my head, holding his face in my hands. His eyes were light, contented—he had fed only the night before—but there was something else brightening them. "You look happy."

"I'm with you."

"That would make me miserable," I laughed again. "I'm not at all interesting."

Edward shook his head, smiling. Yes, that was it. He was exuberantly happy. "No, you're right. Interesting would not be the word. I've told you. You fascinate me." He lowered his head and began kissing the sensitive skin beneath my jaw. "And this nightgown is going to obliterate me, so thank you."

I smiled, and then the lights went out. A loud crack of thunder shook the house.

Edward sighed. The mood was instantly gone. "Great," he said and then got up. And, as he moved across the room, heading for the bedroom door, we heard the loud, pounding hiss of rain begin. "It's only a storm," he assured me between more thunderclap. "They pass quickly, but they get a little intense sometimes. Stay here."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to switch the breaker back on."

I thought of the heated blanket. "Oh, okay."

Then, before I could even consider my next thought, a loud crash stunned my body stiff. The glass window furthest from the bed shattered as the branch of a tree forced its way inside. Violent gusts of wind were blowing throughout the room, destroying my ability to think. It whistled at a deafening pitch and the window's shutter doors rattled, slamming against the log walls on either side. I jumped up from the bed. I couldn't hear what Edward was screaming at me.

"What?!" I closed my eyes as rain began to splatter my face and arms. "I can't hear you!" The entire house seemed to be swaying and shaking. Instantly, the noise lessened some, and I heard Edward sigh. I opened my eyes, instantly sobered by the scowl on his face.

"Oh, Edward."

He was disheveled and soaking wet, and standing with his back to the closed shutters, as angry as I'd ever seen him. "I need wire," he grumbled.

I gasped. "I have wire."

He grimaced at me. "Why do you have wire?"

"Alice," I explained, putting it together as I spoke. "That brat, I think she knew."

I ran over to the dresser and dug through my bag, pulling out the little spindle of wire with narrowed eyes. The moment finally made sense. "When we were leaving," I said. "She snickered at me and slipped this into my bag." I handed Edward the spindle, and he immediately went to work tethering the two shutter doors together. "I asked her what she was doing," I continued, "and she just smiled and pushed me out the door. I figured she was just being weird as usual. She should have told us."

"I wouldn't have brought you here if I had known there would be a storm like this. She knew that." His lips pursed. "And she's getting too skillful at hiding her thoughts from me."

"Well, she probably figured it was no big deal. It's just a storm."

With the shutters locked in place, still rattling from the wind, Edward turned to face me. His gaze immediately zeroed in on my chest. And as I followed his eye line, I realized that my sensible nightie was now my soaking wet, see-through nightie and that beyond my own two stiff little protrusions there was a much larger one disfiguring Edward's boxer shorts.

He gave me a strange frown. "Can we stop talking about my sister now?"

"Oh." I took a larger than necessary breath as we stared at each other. "Sure." My chest rose high and even though I could feel the satin brushing against my skin, I felt naked. "Edward," I inhaled sharply. I wanted him to forget about the stupid storm. I didn't care if the bed was cold. I wanted him to take me to it and make me forget about everything, even my own name. "I want—"

But at that moment a loud thud rattled the house, followed by a scratching sound and then a raucous, chaotic clatter that seemed to be emanating from downstairs.

"Stay here." Edward stepped around me and headed for the door.

"What is that?"

"Stay up here."

I followed anyway, watching as he jumped over the railing to the floor below. Sternly, intently, he pointed up at me. "Bella, don't move. Just stay there."

"What is it?"

I heard a loud, unfamiliar grunt and suddenly Edward was baring his teeth. It sent a shockwave through me, and then unbridled panic. My first assumption was that another vampire was here. But why?

I plowed my stomach into the railing and leaned over trying to catch a glimpse of what had Edward so locked and ready to kill. I could barely see through the darkness, even with the brief, sporadic flashes gifted to me by the lightening. The storm outside, I only noticed now, was dreadful: sheet upon sheet of torrential rain and a fierce, blustering wind.

"Who is it?" I whispered. My heart was racing.

As if I wasn't even in the room, Edward narrowed his eyes in the direction of the kitchen and crouched, preparing himself to fight. "What are you doing?" I demanded. He looked up. His eyes were black, shining marbles beneath his lids. "Edward?"

"Damn it, Bella," he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice a low growl, his chest rumbling. "Get back in the room. Now."

"No." I shook my head. I wasn't letting him out of my sight. "There's no way I'm—Oh, my God."

A boar—a boar!—the size of a baby hippo, was suddenly charging at Edward, pounding the floorboards of the house and snorting its displeasure.

Edward straightened up as an odd expression crossed his faced. He cocked his head. And as the boar approached him, he simply backhanded it and sent it gently crashing into the couch. With little more than annoyance on his face, he stalked over and picked it up, triggering a horrendous squeal.

I covered my ears. "How did that thing get in here?" I yelled over the awful sound. "Are there more? Oh, don't hurt it!"

Without a word, Edward opened the door, and then, as if it weighed no more than a rolled-up newspaper, he hurled the hog out the door. I heard a terrible thud, and then a squeal, and then the door slammed shut.

"Edward!"

Almost immediately, the wind blew the door open again and Edward growled a few curses before stalking over and picking up a large armoire. He slammed it down in front of the door, shattering most of the floorboards beneath it.

"Damn it!" He stomped up the stairs past me, his lips moving with ferocious speed. Of course I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like a string of vulgarities. I followed him into the dark bedroom and watched as he threw my suitcase onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" I moved toward him cautiously. The shutters were rattling like mad. The rain was pouring. "How did that thing get into the house?" I waited through his silence. "Edward?"

"It rammed the front door. It smelled the food. We're leaving."

"What? No. Why?"

"Pack your things," he said, disregarding my question. "I'll take you somewhere else. And don't leave this room." I cringed when he slammed the bathroom door shut. I heard the shower begin running before a loud slam rocked the entire house. I imagined Edward punching the wall—if there still _was _a wall.

I began to fret and worry and make myself sick. How had all this gone so wrong? It was supposed to be perfect. And it most definitely wasn't. And yet, I didn't care. I didn't want to leave. In fact, I just wanted to sneak into that bathroom and climb into the warm steam with Edward. Rub up against him. Kiss him. Hold him. Tropical storms and stupid hungry boars were meaningless compared to the possibilities that waited behind that door. It was the loss of those possibilities that had me nearly in tears, not the broken door, or the failed electricity, or even the rain.

It seemed as though what I had been fantasizing about for months was never going to happen.

After combing my fingers through my hair, I stepped toward the door and pressed my forehead against the cold wood. "Edward," I said, jiggling the handle.

He had locked it.

Great.

By the time Edward emerged, showered and still clad in only boxers, I was on the bed, curled on my side, grieving for my lost honeymoon and pouting through the darkness, despite the fact that the electricity had actually returned to life minutes before.

I watched through the dark as he walked toward me. He would draw me into his arms at any moment, to whisper comforting, apologetic words, to make me feel better, feel loved. So I ignored him, focusing on my sorrow, and waited. But he said and did nothing. With an air of defeat, Edward simply sat at the edge of the bed and planted his feet firmly on the floor, lowering his head into his hands. It was an odd feeling to witness someone so consistently stoic, so rarely affected by even the worst of slights, wither tiresomely into what looked like disappointment and grief. That was usually me.

I'd never seen Edward like this.

"Edward."

"I'm sorry, Bella." His voice was low and tired, and very distant. "I meant for this to be perfect for you," he whispered vacantly. "I chose the wrong place. I wasn't thinking. I…I wanted the voices in my head to disappear for once, so that it was truly just _me and you_."

"No. Don't be sorry. I—" I frowned. "Edward?" He wasn't listening to me. Rather, he was staring ahead of himself, seeing something that I couldn't, always, always something I couldn't, I realized.

My mind retreated back to the beginning of our relationship. Back then he had that same aura of pain around him, of solitude, like he was alone, though not in the way that he wanted, not with me.

I remembered the day. I remembered his sorrow. As I'd sat on the grass in our meadow, he'd built a fire in his eyes and tried to share it with me, to show me his pain and his loneliness. Only I'd had no idea how to comfort him, how to reach out to him. Physically, we'd had no recourse. Physically, we were stinted, and, in time, I'd lost my way.

"I'm sorry, Edward." I'd never comforted him, I realized. Throughout our entire relationship, I'd done nothing but let him fend for himself, not knowing what else to do. And it hit me, what a lifetime without the touch of another must do to someone, must have done to Edward. He was the truly touch-starved.

A smile came to my face as more realization stung my countenance. If I wanted to be a woman, the kind I wanted to be, if I wanted this man to make me one, as only he knew how, I needed to put away my childish ways and earn it for myself.

I sat up and situated myself behind Edward. All I had to offer him was my humanity and everything that came along with it, softness and warmth and primordial lust. I finally understood the unusual breadth of his desire for me. I finally understood the look on his face when he was forced to let another man warm me, unable to do so himself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my palms opening wide against the flanks of muscle at his sides, my chin at his back. "I'm sorry for how I behaved earlier. On the beach."

Edward inhaled sharply. He felt me against him. And now that I had his attention, I pushed my hands up his cool, dormant flesh and laid my cheek against his spine. My eyes closed at the contact. He was so unbelievably beautiful to me. "And you don't need to be perfect," I said, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin between his shoulder blades. "I want you regardless."

It was amazing, the softness I felt, and it had nothing to do with the texture of my skin, or the contours of my feminine physique, and everything to do with the connection my flesh was making with his, and the ensuing rasp of his breath.

I smiled and laid my cheek on his shoulder.

"You have to admit," I said, pushing a second kiss deep into his neck and trying with all my might not to be become too overwhelmed by him, by his scent. It was Edward mixed with soap and shampoo, his hair clean and dark and wet. Droplets of island-sweet well water trickled down to my lips.

Shamelessly, I kissed one up.

"It was kind of funny," I continued through a smile. My fingers danced along his arms. "The way that pig squealed when you picked it up." I laughed, suddenly feeling dizzy with him in my arms, and prayed that he would laugh along with me.

He offered a modest smile, but his eyes still stubbornly held to the wall in front of him.

"Oh, honey. Tonight has nothing to do with you not being human, or me being human." My voice was sodden with need. He had to know what the presence of so much of his skin was doing to me. It was stealing every ounce of my discretion. I was a shameless wanton again, licking up droplet after droplet to get my fill. "This could have happened to anyone," I breathed. "Nothing more than bad luck." My lips refused to leave the long muscle of his neck. I wanted him so much that I was trembling. "And anyway," I whispered as my hands smoothed around him, rubbing eagerly up his chest. "I don't care if this whole house collapses over us; I want to finish what we started."

Startlingly, I was grasped by the shoulders and whipped around to Edward's front side.

"I didn't want her," he grumbled at me before his eyes softened. "I never did."

As my heart started up again, I righted myself and set my knees on either side of his thighs. "I know." I grabbed his face. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been mad. I had no right. But I get jealous because I love you so much, and I'm selfish, and I want you to myself."

"You have me to yourself."

"Prove it," I hissed and then wrapped my legs around his waist, forcing us together as my body betrayed me and a mewling little cry fled my lips. Only his boxer shorts and the thin, satin panel of my panties separated us. It was more Edward than I could bear. "Prove it just because." I fisted a handful of his hair and drew his ear to my mouth, shuddering at the feel of his hands clutching my hips. I wanted to go back there, back to that place with him, where restraint didn't exist. "Touch me like before, Edward. Take me, I'm yours."

I let out a curt, then blunted moan as he twisted and hurled me to the bed, forcing my wrists above my head, effortlessly locking them to the hot surface of the blanket. "Be careful what you ask for, Bella." There was a deep agitation in his voice and I caught a chill, despite the heat. "I know my limits now."

"Then take me," I panted into his mouth, breathing my provocation in sharp bursts, letting him feel the heat of my need rake across his lips. I knew his limits too. He didn't have any, and I was in a fevered rage for him, bucking my hips as he settled in roughly between my thighs. "Take what you want." I kissed his mouth, wanting to be possessed by him, needing to be claimed. And there was nothing stopping us anymore. This was our revolution. Our rising. "Take me."

A low, intolerant growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through to my spine as he did just that.

Willingly, I let go, gave myself to his impulse as I felt my nightgown being jerked from my body, the delicate lace splitting effortlessly between his fists, the straps snapping from my shoulders. The act was rabid and violent, and I arched my back to push my chest at him, offering myself like sacrifice. Oh, I'd never dreamed of such ecstasy, the feel of vulnerability without fear and the electric shock of his cool lips now gliding down my neck.

"Don't stop," I sighed, then begged for more, "Please, Edward."

"I don't want to hurt you," he ground out while burning the rough pads of his fingers down my arm, releasing me from his grip, his other arm poised to keep from crushing me.

I held my arms in place above my head, rising as he smoothed his palm over my breast, thumbing the sensitive peak, his lips still parted at my throat. He hissed in a breath and pinched, and I cried out in response. Nothing was going to come between us anymore.

If it all killed me, we would finish this.

"You can't hurt me," I said. "It's impossible." I closed my eyes to withstand the hard rake of his tongue over my nipple and the gentle tug of his mouth that had me whimpering like a child. "Oh, God. That's…That's…" I clamped my lips together, trying to spare myself the embarrassment of sounding like a silly virgin, especially when Edward was so silent, so focused. I, on the other hand, moaned and squirmed with every move he made.

Then his hands pushed once again up my arms and forced them deep into the bed, holding me immobile. But he could not silence my hips. They writhed, searching for him.

"Edward."

"Bella," he groaned to me, warning me, moving his lips to my bated mouth. "I'm going to lose my mind if you keep doing that."

"So lose it."

I bucked again. Hard. Grinding against what I found. Finally extracting from him a deep, guttural moan.

It was my strategy. Goad him into violating me, push him until the monster erupted, knowing that it was teetering on the edge of his control. Above me, his body swelled and tensed, drawing my energy from me, trying to control something inside that wanted out. And while I awaited its arrival, Edward surrounded me, his weight pressing my body to the bed as his head came down on my shoulder. I whined and heaved at the naked caress of his stone chest against mine. He was strangely quiet, though, his hips restless and itching to thrust.

"You're pushing me," he growled, giving the base of my throat a licking wet kiss. My blood must have been racing, pooling to the surface at his touch, tantalizing his thirst.

I felt a shiver. Goose bumps rose, though I tried to ignore them. I was cold, but I didn't care.

"I'm not equipped to be gentle with you, Bella," he said as he pushed the iron stalk of his erection against the thin band of material between my thighs, where his hips had my legs spread wide around him.

A sharp cry wedged in my throat. I wasn't even sure what that meant. But his voice was low and dark in my ear, the gruff sound piquing a perverse curiosity in me. "I don't care." I gulped. "I can take it."

In an instant, my head was at the head of the bed on the pillow, the electric blanket parachuting over Edward's back as he settled again between my legs. He was sandwiched between me and the warm coils, and the heat was mingling with his taut flesh, melting our bodies together, and plunging us into rapture.

With only the rasp of excited breath between us, I threw my arms around his neck and forced his mouth down on mine, demonstrating my eagerness as his hand skimmed my belly and then slipped beneath the elastic of my panties. I let out a gasp, whimpering into his mouth at the feel of his fingers curling against me, rubbing in wide circles until I was bucking against his palm and crying his name.

Above me, Edward grew frantic. "Now, Bella." He kissed me hard, too hard in his excitement, but I only moaned through the pain. I didn't want it to stop. "I need to feel you," he said, tempering his kiss. "Right now. You have no idea how much I want you."

My excitement soared at his words. And I took his cue, as he slipped his boxers off, by wriggling out of my panties, screaming out when his hand returned with twice the fervor to the pulsing ache he had created.

It was then that I knew Edward was dead serious.

"Oh, God," I uttered, tossing my head back.

For a moment, as his lips wrapped around my nipple, causing him to moan along with me, I had an out of body experience. This was all I had fantasized about for nearly two years, Edward in my bed, unrestrained and unleashed, wanting me, wanting to touch me and unable to stop himself from doing anything else.

It was perfect, and I took a moment to accept that it was real. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to mine, soaking in his perilous taste.

"I love you," I whispered. I was ready and at last relaxed when he positioned the smooth head of his erection against me. The tip wasn't cold like I had expected, but I didn't waste time wondering why. I only recalled its bulbous shape and the way it had felt inside my nervous hand, the way he had grimaced with pleasure at my touch. Every curve was soft and rounded, pliable to the touch, and I wasn't afraid suddenly.

I felt brave.

"I love you, too." He kissed my mouth, his tongue brushing along my lower lip. I was so exposed, so defenseless in his arms. But I trusted Edward. I knew he could never hurt me, even if _he_ did not believe it. I had faith, and even if I had had none, I would have risked everything for him, for the look in his eyes, for the tender drift with which he touched my lips, holding his to mine for comfort, giving me his sweet breath.

These things I focused on while he pushed, nudging himself inside me.

"Bella."

I froze. My cheeks flushed hot.

"I love you so much," he whispered once more against my lips, so faintly that I wondered if I was imagining it. "You're so beautiful."

From then on felt like a lucid dream, I was very aware, like I had just been let in on some secret to the universe, but nothing felt tangible. And I was startled to find myself terrified by this new knowledge. For all my begging and provoking, I was the one frozen with fear. My only comfort was Edward. So I held firmly to his face, worshipping with my lips the features that had so drawn me to him, as he withdrew and then gently delivered another thrust.

I cried out, able to feel the unbelievable thickness of him. I couldn't move. I could only feel and wait through the discomfort. How far had he come inside me, I wondered as I grew dizzy?

"Bella." His eyes beseeched me. I must have looked drunk.

"Huh?"

"Tell me you're alright," he whispered, nuzzling my nose with his. "You're shaking like a leaf. Is this hurting you?"

He pushed a little further inside me, gauging my reaction as he did. I moaned sharply, arching my back. It was as if he was molding me, creating something that was never there. Only now did it exist for me, as it stretched and opened for him. But it hurt, too, and I must have cringed.

"Bella. Please talk to me."

Speechless and afraid, I merely hugged him with all my strength. He nestled me against him in response, but he did not stop. His hips only endeavored to make another thrust, sinking him deeper inside.

"I'm okay," I assured him, then slipped my fingers into his hair, clutching his head to me. "Please don't stop." My body was easing around him, and I undulated with my hips, experiencing my first wave of pleasure, earning from Edward a very satisfied groan.

"You feel so good, Bella. So hot inside." His breath heavy, he fed on my lips, and it was only then, as I relaxed into him, that I realized how tense my muscles had been. "Relax, Bella."

"Kiss me then," I demanded.

Our mouths met passionately, and my body rose as he suddenly withdrew and then impaled me to the hilt with that thick, steeled organ that I had thought impossible to fit, forcing his pelvis hard to mine.

I gasped, and Edward paused, watching my reaction, waiting.

Impatiently, his hips began to grate into me, though, and when I saw the distress in his face, I suffused it with warm kisses. "I'm fine. I'm fine." I could see that he was in pain with his need to thrust, but I could also see that there was an inkling of thirst in his eyes and the burgeoning of lust restrained by love.

"I'm fine," I promised. And at that moment, I forgot to be scared. His desire, and even his thirst, excited me. I liked the feel of his back arching beneath my fingers, and the way he growled my name into my ear.

At the gruff sound, a fresh surge of moisture coated the flesh between my thighs, bathing and heating the thick shaft inside me. I whined, bucking on it. It was so good, and filled me completely. I breathed out my pleasure and kissed Edward's neck while I let out a soft string of moans for him, the sound turning to cries as he pushed back against me.

"God, Bella," Edward grunted and then growled again, yanking me hard against his chest, alleviating all pretense of mercy.

His testing little pushes then became slow, driving thrusts, piercing me deep and hard and rubbing repeatedly against something carnal inside me. There was no pain, only need mushrooming from the center of my womb and urging me down to grind hard on him when I could.

My cries grew louder.

Edward's thrusts rougher.

And once I drew my knees high along his sides, our bodies seemed to meld together, our limbs tangling and gripping, the both of us panting as I gathered his mouth once more to mine.

The kisses were turbulent, so breathlessly impassioned that Edward pushed his tongue past my lips to thrash with mine, nearly knocking me unconscious. I almost fainted. His taste, the venom, it filled my mouth and intoxicated me, sending me into a restive frenzy. And where our bodies rubbed and slammed together, something hot and sharp was building, sizzling beneath the surface of my skin.

I cried out as Edward pistoned me faster and faster, the brute force of his thrusts driving me toward the headboard. It was far too much. The ache was too intense to bear. Then severe, blinding pleasure surged up my chest, spreading across my flesh and through my heart, flooding my head. It was everywhere, and as my body finally settled, Edward's movements became sluggish and deliberate. He let out a soft moan and then buried his face into my neck as his body relaxed against me.

My skin flushed and damp, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, my breasts aching as they pressed against his chest.

I just held him.

"I love you," I whispered.

It just seemed the thing to say, because I did, I loved him so very much. And it was this sacred place, this feeling of being naked with his cool, firm body pinning me to something soft and warm, that I would never forsake, no matter what life threw at us from this moment on.

If he was here, if he was happy, then so was I.

Till the end of time.

My Edward, my angel, my husband, kissed my ear, tickling me with his breath. "Want to do it again?"

I smiled and hugged him so tightly. And how happy I was.

"God yes."

.

.

.

.

.

The End.

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**A/N2:** Thanks for reading! Please review.


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